a mEmory
by thechosenspot
Summary: Emory Stilinski, Stiles' cousin, moves back to Beacon Hills. The time away feels like nothing as she fits in better than anyone thought. By quickly befriended many of Scott's pack and especially Derek Hale, she quickly raises many questions about exactly who she is. More romance than depicted but still full of adventure, drama, humor. Warning: no clear time line within the series
1. Chapter I: The Run

Chapter One:

"When did you get so fast?"

"I am not your weak little cousin any more, Stiles."

"But you're about a foot shorter than me," he pouted. "It's unfair. It's also six in the morning. How are you guys," motioning to Scott and his cousin. "Awake enough to put one foot in front of the other?"

"It is called endurance." Emory laughed. "Casper was able to keep up," She nodded at the panting Golden Retriever that came from New York with her. "And even Scott managed without his inhaler," Stiles shot Scott a look of shock.

There had been commosion this morning when Stiles picked up Stiles to go for the morning run. Scott had lifted up the side of his t-shirt to reveal nothing which both boys looked confused about. "I thought you guys stuck with Lacrosse."

"We did," Stiles pouted further as he looked down at his shorter cousin whose forehead which was barely perspiring after three miles through the woods.

"Today is the first day of tryouts," said Scott who miraculously did not need his inhaler anymore.

"I see your still playing soccer," said Stiles.

"Of course." Emory's smile fell. "It kept the parents happy." The reference to her parents kept them quiet for a second. "Anyways, race you guys back to your car."

Emory took off through the woods before Stiles had the chance to groan and tell her 'no' with some sarcastic remark.

Emory and Casper bounded through the woods over dead trees. Scott easily caught up with her. Emory assumed Stiles at least had the strength the catch up with her when she and Scott stopped after a few minutes. However, when she looked over her shoulder, Stiles was no where to be seen through the trees.

"Stiles!" She called out.

"He's probably lost. Let's just meet him at the car. C'mon," Scott was about to start running again when Casper barked.

The bark dragged Emory's attention away from scanning the woods. Casper never barked. Emory's parents had trained Casper like they had Emory. Never speak, or bark-in Casper's case, out of turn. Never cause attention to yourself. Her parents had the skill of blending in and never wanted it be sacrificed for a child or dog.

Casper's focus was on something through the woods. He suddenly ran towards something Emory was not aware of. Emory ran after Casper, gasping for air quickly at the change in pace. Scott was at her side while breathing easily.

After a few minutes, which consisted of Emory franticly trying to keep an eye on Casper for he was not the type of dog to run from her command, they came to a clearing.

The dog approached an undoubtedly abandoned house.

Once Emory had come to the clearing of trees herself, she could see that the house was once a Victorian-style beauty. The paint was long gone and it seemed as if the back of the house was mostly in ashes. The morning light illuminated the top of the pointed roof causing the rest to be glowing with an eerily darkness.

Casper's constant vicious barking but Emory on edge. "Casper!" She scolded. The dog let out a few more barks before running to her with his tail between his legs. The instant change confused Emory. Silly dog.

"His hearts beating fast. He seems scared," Scott noted.

Emory kneeled on the dead leaves to comfort the golden retriever. The poor animal was shaking as he put his head between her legs.

"Funny dog," said a voice imitating her thoughts from seconds earlier. A man, not too much older than Emory and Scott stood in front of the house just five feet away from them. How had she not heard him approach. The dead leaves usually prevented Emory from loosing Casper with his nose to the ground this time of year.

"He's just scared for some reason," Emory said levelly. "He's usually not like this."

The man whistled lightly. Casper left Emory's grasp and practically ran to the stranger. The black haired, but pale man gently rubbed the dog's head and back.

Emory noticed how the man had sort of a dark glow around him. Despite the almost all black outfit, the mans scowl did not seem to leave his face. Although, throughout the time the man stroked Casper's head, his light green eyes stayed soft and calm.

"Scott! Em!" Stiles came trotting behind them loudly in the dead leaves. He stopped at the edge of the woods before resting his hands on his knees and panting towards the ground. Emory watched him carefully waiting for him to notice the man in front of her.

Stiles finally picked his head up. Shock flashed across his face.

"What are you guys doing here?" The man's voice went from deep to deeper where his tone went to threatening catching Scott and Emory off guard. "This is private property."

"Sorry man," said Stiles coming up beside Scott and Emory. "We didn't know."

"We were just having a morning run in the park."

"And then Casper, here," Scott motioned to the dog. "Ran off."

"Were you possibly looking for anything?" The man asked.

"No, we-" Emory started.

"Actually," Stiles cut in. "I think we might have dropped someth-"

Derek took is hand out of his pocket and through something at Scott.

Scott easily caught the object. His inhaler.

The man raised his eyebrows motioning that their interaction was done.

Emory, Scott, and Stiles departed jogging through the woods back towards the entrance of the park.

When they got a few paces away. Stiles stopped.

"Guys," he said causing Emory and Scott to stop as well. "That was Derek Hale."

Scott and Emory looked at him with blank faces.

"His family died like ten years ago in a fire," Stiles looked at Emory with apologetic eyes.

"Sounds familiar," added Emory.

No one knew what to say next so they jogged in silence. Emory and Stiles struggled to match Scott's pace while Stiles struggled not showing how much he was struggling.


	2. Chapter II: The Party

**Chapter II: The Party**

Emory's first day at Beacon Hills High average at best. However, she felt lonely. She did not have her clique from New York to make fun of the teachers, other students and themselves with her. To make it worse, Scott and Stiles kept whispering to each other throughout the day about something. It seemed to do with that mornings jog but why were the guys hiding from her?

Emory went home after school while the boys stayed for their Lacrosse tryouts. She had been told that some of the student watched the tryouts yet she took one look at the bleachers full of girlfriends and decided it wasn't her scene.

"Dude, the way you caught that ball on the last one!" exclaimed Stiles as him and Scott entered the Stilinski household. "I didn't think you would be able to catch that one."

"Neither did I," admitted Scott. "But its like I had all the time in the world."

"What if it has something to do with-"

"Hey guys." Emory came down the stair meeting the boys at the front door. "How tryouts go?"

"Actually really good," said Scott.'

"Well."

"What?"

"Actually really _well_."

"You too," Scott rolled his eyes while Stiles looked proud.

"I hear there's a party tonight," offered Stiles.

"I don't think so," Emory rubbed her eyes.

"Oh no," Stiles pointed at his cousin. "You are coming. I have strict orders from my dad to involve you in Beacon Hills activities. That includes this party."

"I am tired," Emory tries. "I don't even have any clothes to wear this party."

"Just wear what your wearing now." All three looked at Emory's attire. The oversized sweatshirt and boxer shorts did not seem appropriate. Not even to Emory. "Never mind."

Emory ended up wearing a pair of jeans and one of Stiles Lacrosse shirts. Apparently anything with the Beacon Hills Lacrosse logo is accepted anywhere.

Emory had gone to plenty of parties in New York, however she never felt out of place at one until tonight. Scott and Stiles lack of experience at parties also did not help them fit in with the crowd.

The trio worked their way through the house onto the patio in the back revealing a pool and many people dancing to deafening music. If there was a party this big back in New York, Emory was sure it would be busted in no time. It helped that most houses in the suburban area of Beacon Hills were secluded by forests.

Stiles had left Scott and Emory to go see if he could steal any drinks from the inside game of pong.

Scott had left Emory to go talk to some guy on the Lacrosse team but seemed to be staring past his teammate. Emory followed his gaze which led to Derek Hale, the man in the woods.

Scott seemed to excreting fear.

Emory left her secluded spot alone near the house and walked straight towards the looming figure against the fence.

Emory had to dodge many drunk teenagers and in doing so she lost Derek in the crowd.

She huffed in annoyance.

"I didn't know girls could play men's lacrosse," said voice behind her referring to her shirt.

"I didn't know twenty-year olds came to high school parties," Emory fought back.

She turned around to meet Derek behind her.

"I'm looking for Scott," Derek said simply losing all sense of playfulness.

Emory looked back over to the crowd of Lacrosse players. Scott was no where to be seen.

"Well he's my ride home so he's still here."

Derek looked around. "Are you so sure?"

Emory gave Derek a quizzical gaze before leaving him in search of Scott and Stiles.

After checking every room in the house and asking a few of the lacrosse players she had made as acquaintances, she was positive the two boys had left her.

Emory's head started to her with anger and frustration as she ran out into the front yard. She had decided on running home. Too bad she was in tight jeans that prevented her legs from having the stride she wanted.

"Emory!" She heard someone scream as her eyes became blinded with light. She felt a strong tug as her body was yanked to the opposite side of the street.

As her eyes adjusted, Derek's figure was developing in her sight.

"You idiot!" He hissed in her face. Her head was buzzing and she felt like she might fall when Derek gripped her arms keeping her body up right. "C'mon." Emory let Derek pull her and set her down in the passenger seat of a car.

Emory sat quietly as he dictated her whereabouts.

"You don't talk much," Derek observed.

Emory shrugged. "I just don't feel the need to talk to someone I don't like."

"Why don't you like me?" Derek felt like he was back in High School again by even thinking of asking that question.

"Does is matter?" Emory did not talk a lot. However, at the moment, she felt that talking less would help the pounding head ache she had. "If I tell you exactly why I don't like you, which implies that I actually know why, you wont change. So what exactly would the point be of me telling you why I don't like you?"

"How do you know I wouldn't change?"

"Because who actually changes?" There was a pause. "And if you actually attempted to change, it would not even work because it wouldn't be for you, it would be for someone else. Which never works. And should never be attempted."

"Jesus Christ," Derek huffed.

"What?" Asked Emory who was now aware of how much she had said.

"I'm impressed."

"Why?"

"I never expected anyone to have a more depressing view on life than me," Derek seemed to reply honestly.

"My parents' death didn't come with nothing," She replied. Emory's cheeks turned red after she processed what she said. "I'm sorry. I usually don't spill my whole life on a person. And I swear I haven't had that much to drink. I don't know what's going on with me." Emory said more to herself than to Derek.

"Well we're here," he said pulling into her cousin's driveway. "So you don't have to worry about spilling the rest of your tragic life to anyone else," Derek said playfully.

Emory silently got out of the car.

"Look, Emory," called Derek to her before she got to the door. "Don't worry about Scott and Stiles," he nodded sincerely.

She nodded with understanding she lacked.


	3. Chapter III: The Friend

**Chapter III: The Preparation for the Truth**

"But bib youb bink ub berik?"

"How can you honestly think I understood what you just said when you have toothpaste spilling out of your mouth."

Stiles made a b-line for the sink before he snorted the toothpaste of his nose.

"What did you think of Derek?" he clarified from the bathroom.

"He was okay."

"Okay?" Stiles questioned., returning to the bedroom.

"He kinda seems a little lonely," Emory put down her book on her cousin's bed.

"Well that's a fact," Stiles narrowed his eyes. "Was he mean, rude, aggressive towards you at all in the car last night?"

" _Aggressive_? No, actually he saved me," Emory looked down at her book. She hadn't actually processed that part of the night yet. Despite what came out of Derek's mouth, everything he did was in Emory's best interest.

"Saved you? What, from a party full of hormonal teenagers?"

"No, from being run over." Stile's eyebrows shot up. "I mean," said Emory seeing Stile's reaction. "I think that's what happened. It's all kind of a blur."

There was a pause.

"Well, I don't like him," Stiles said simply.

"And what is with his attire? Why the all black?" Emory scoffed. "Is he always that dark and mysterious?"

"Wait a second, Emory." Stiles glared at his cousin. " _Dark and Mysterious_?" Stiles repeated. "Isn't that how girls our age describe guys they are interested in?"

Emory thought of throwing her book across the room hitting stiles square in the chest for even thinking of such an idea. She, instead, reached for _Anna Karenina_ and opened it again. "Oh please, what would I know about being interested in guys our own age?" Emory justified.

"Fair enough," said Stiles before attempting to kick Emory off his bed causing her to actually throw her book at his chest.

"Derek!" Scott yelled outside the half burned down house. "I know you're in there!" Scott didn't know he felt this way until he watched himself furiously ride to Derek's house instead of school the next morning. Stile's had texted him this morning that Derek had taken Emory home last night before meeting him in the woods against the hunters.

"Just stay away from her!" Scott had always gotten along with Emory. Every time she had visited for weeks in the summer, they always bonded really well. Stiles viewed her as a sister and so it was almost impossible for Scott not to feel the same. He involuntarily felt protective over her.

Derek emerged from the house. "Stay away from her!" yelled Scott. "She doesn't know anything!"

"You don't think she will?" asked Derek calmly. "I don't know it yet but I'm looking out for you. Think about what could happen. You think your little buddy Stiles can just Google lycanthropy and then you've got all your answers. You play lacrosse, you get a little heated in an argument, and you shift in front of her," Derek's voice got deeper and more strained. "When she sees you, do you think she'll be okay and pet your head or scream out in terror," Derek's eyes glass over as if thinking of a memory. "I'm only protecting you. Both of you," he ended calmly.

Scott was at a loss for words. What if he hurt Stiles or Emory or his mom? He wouldn't be able to live with himself.

"Dude," said Stiles lifting his shirt to display his chest. "Look at what Emory's copy of _Anna Karenina_ did to me last night."

Scott laughed silently at his best friend's misfortune.

"I mean," Stiles gestured something with his hands. "I love her. I mean, she's my cousin. But man does she have good aim and _strength_ ," He said rubbing his chest. "Are you sure she's not a werewolf?"

"I think you would know if a werewolf was sleeping in you house," Scott reasoned.

"Maybe we should just get her a boyfriend that she can take all her anger out on."

The two boys walked out of the gym locker and into the gym just in time to see Emory deck a guys in the testicles and a friendly game of dodge ball.

"I don't think that'll be enough," flinched Stile who had a little taste of what that dodge ball hit felt like.

"She sure has a lot of stress built up after the whole thing with her parents and the rest of her life."

"Maybe sports aren't the right place though," said Scott, getting an idea for once.

"What do you mean?"

"Has she seen Derek again?"

"I don't think I like this idea."

"Look, I know you don't like him but he's the only one who can help me. If I can't control myself, I can't start in the game on Saturday. If I can't play in the game on Saturday, Coach will hate me and I'll fail his class. If I fail his class I wont graduate and eventually become homeless and die."

"I think you've been listening to Emory's depressing music too much." Stiles placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"You need to give Derek a chance. Yes, he sucks. But I need him. We need him."

Stiles pouted. "You may need him. But Emory certainly does not need a twenty year old powerful _werewolf_ as her friend."

"So you won't allow Emory to at least have one friend in Beacon Hills who understand her before she even opens her mouth, someone who can comfort her because he knows what she is going through?"

"Well, when you put it like that," replied Stiles while still pouting.

Stiles had two periods before lunch and two periods to think about what Derek could do to Emory, which was plenty of time for Stiles to change his views on this particular matter.

"Derek is not hanging around my cousin," said Stiles biting into his apple. "Derek will not enforce his depressing nature on her naive mind."

Scott laughed, "Naive mind? Emory beat us both at Red Dead Redemption because she was willing to look past all the whore, killing, disease stuff."

"Speaking from the guy who just wanted to ride the horse around instead of finish the missions."

"I guess that's true. Maybe she just has more motivation than us," said Scott.

"That's right," Stiles laughed. "No matter how good she is at Red Dead Redemption; she is not hanging out with Derek."

The two friends started walking out of the school when Scott stopped, seeing something parking lot. "That might be a little harder than you thought," Scott nodded towards Derek and Emory. Derek had his hand on the roof of the blue jeep out of support while the rest of his body was struggling to keep up right. Emory seemed to be yelling at him. Derek looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there.

As Scott and Stiles got closer, Derek's skin seemed paler than usual and his eyes had lost their brightness.


	4. Chapter IV: The Truth

**Chapter IV: The Truth**

"You need to go to a Hospital Clinic," Emory reinforced. "Why the hell you came to a school for help is beyond me."

"Where is Scott?" Derek said with half open eyes.

"He's probably with-"

'Derek," Scott and Stiles approached the Jeep. "Why do you look like that?" asked Scott.

"Is that going to happen to Scott?" asked Stiles.

Derek looked like he was about to answer but then he lost his balanced and crashed to pavement.

"We need to get him to a hospital," Emory said for the billionth time. "He says he was shot."

"Emory, help me get him into the back of the Jeep," commanded Scott.

Emory and Scott picked him up and walked him into the back of the car.

"Emory, come here," Stiles called her over, leaving Scott and Derek to talk. "What did he tell you?"

"Not much other than he was shot and that he couldn't go to the hospital."

"Did he say who shot him?"

"Well I didn't really get there, Stiles. I was a little worried about his health!" Emory started to yell.

Stiles swear he saw a glint of blue in Emory's eyes as she yelled that last part. He stared at her, unable to comprehend what he just saw. Was it a reflection of the jeep in her eyes? A trick of the sun? The light? Stiles would believe anything at this point. Anything except the fact that his cousin was a werewolf.

Scott returned from talking with Derek in the car.

"Stiles, drive Emory and Derek to the animal clinic. After you drop them off, come pick me up at the corner of Jefferson and Wallace St."

Stiles nodded in agreement but looked like he wanted to say something else. However, unable to, he resided in the driver's seat while Emory climbed in the back with Derek and Scott in the passenger seat.

There was little to talk about since no one wanted to say anything in front of Emory. Emory was waiting for someone to say something. But she assumed that if someone wanted to say something, they would. And so she remained silent. She had already lost her temper once when talking with Stiles.

She couldn't remember the last time she had lost her temper like that. She had always been a calm child. Shy, quiet, and most of all calm. Her parents had made sure of that.

They arrived at the Animal Clinic under ten minutes when it usually took at least fifteen. This confirmed Emory's theory that despite Scott's and especially Stiles' coldness toward Derek, they both had enough respect for him to care what happened to him. But at the end of the day, who would wish for someone to die by a gun shot wound. Emory wouldn't wish that on anybody, except for one.

"Emory," Scott said calmly but strongly. "Take Derek inside and do whatever he says until we get back. Do what he says," he repeated. "No matter how odd or strange the requests may seem. And no matter what," Scott emphasized. "Does he become unconscious."

Emory and Stiles carried him into the Clinic.

Stiles then took one last look at Emory. He must not have seen it. Definelty a trick of the light. It had to be. His cousin was not a werewolf. He moved his gaze to Derek. His cousin, fuck his _sister_ , would not become this. She would not be able to go through what Scott goes through and the stuff with her parents. No human could withstand that much fucking pain.

No one, except Derek Hale.

Emory was left to deal with the almost-corpse Derek.

"What do you want me to do?"

Derek looked at her through the sliver of eye ball which was visible.

"Help me." He took his good arm and tried to remove his shirt. Emory walked over to him and lifted his shirt over his head revealing the chest Emory had assumed was under the tight shirts he often wore. She slipped the shirt down his arm to reveal the gun shot.

The gun shot was a hole in his forearm. However, this was different. The bullet seemed to affect the blood around the wound. His veins coming dispersing from the hole had turned a darker color. Almost black. Poison. Why would someone poison a bullet? Why make a bullet more lethal?

"Speak," Derek wheezed. Emory had been staring at the wound with interest but also in silence.

"Poison," she said simply.

Derek nodded and Emory thought she caught a slight smile spread across his lips. "Of a sort," he answered. "Or a least to me."

"What," she didn't understand. "Are you allergic to something that's in the bullet metal?"

Derek nodded again but then closed his eyes.

"Derek you need to stay awake."

Derek opened his eyes.

"Talk to me," Emory said. He would need to stay awake to talk.

"About what?"

"Anything."

"Fine. I will give you directions," Derek slurred but Emory made note of how he seemed more aware of his surroundings. "If Scott and Stiles don't come back with what they are looking for," Emory noticed he intentionally left out what they were trying to find. "You need to saw off my arm."

"Oh no, biggy." Emory interrupted. " _I'll just saw of your arm_." Emory started to feel her anger from earlier return. "How do you expect me to saw off your arm. I am no doctor. Despite you will need stitches in order to not _bleed_ to death. You might as well die."

Derek saw her eyes. The blue that was in his when he turned. How come he hadn't smelled her when he first saw her in the woods? How had he noticed noticed? How come he still couldn't tell, even when he had power over his strengths.

"Em-"

"I have had enough to fucking deal with when my parents died. Even before their deaths, their opinion was everything. Their influence was everything. It still is. So how can you stand there and command something of me. Command something that would make me a killer. I would _kill_ you. You'd be gone from this world."

"Emor-" he tried.

"You wouldn't have anymore conversations. No more relations with anyone. You'd be alone. And so would be everyone you would leave behind. How could you _live_ one more second thinking of that?"

"Emory."

"What?" She asked just as breathless as the dying werewolf.

"You never told me."

"Told you what?"

"That you were like me."

"That my parents died? I told you last night."

"No," Derek shook his head. "That you're a werewolf, too"

Emory was speechless. Then she laughed. But after Derek was silent she became speechless again.

"Look at your eyes." Emory looked at the hand held mirror lying on the counter beside the cotton balls.

Her eyes. They were indeed blue. But not the normal blue they normally were. They were glowing.

Fucking glowing. But then they slowly faded.

She tore her eyes away from the mirror to look back at Derek. His eyes were glowing as well. The same as hers. His slowly faded as well. However as they faded, he fell to the ground.

"No! Derek!" Emory rushed to his side on the floor. She slapped him across the face.

Nothing.

She slapped him again.

Still nothing.

She stared at her hand as she formed a fist. She moved her fist to above his chest. She pounded her knuckle into his chest.

His whole body lurched forward.

"We're here!" shouted Stiles from the doorway followed by Scott rushing in.

Derek quickly sat up as nothing had happened.

He reached out his hand to Scott who handed him what looked like a bullet. He hauled at each side of the bullet until it sprung open releasing a powder. He then pulled a lighter out his pocket. He lit the powder on the table before picking it up with his bare hands and pushing it in the gun shot hole in his forearm.

It smoked and glowed blue before disappearing. All of it. The wound. The blackened veins. All gone.

Out of all the things that had happened that day. This was the thing that caused Emory's jaw to drop.


	5. Chapter V: The Explanation

**Chapter V: The Explanation**

 _[Scott and Stiles in the Jeep on their way to finding the bullet]_

"Scott."

"Yup?" Scott's voice radiated stress.

"You know when I joked about Emory being a werewolf?"

"Yeah? Don't tell me Derek bit her?" he said lightly trying to brighten the mood.

"Yeah, not really a joke anymore," Stiles grimaced with his hands on the wheel. "Her eyes glowed blue, man. _Glowed_. How many humans do you know that have glowing eyes?"

"Are you sure?" Scott was shocked. His throat seemed to close up. "Derek seemed to have no idea. When I talked to him about driving her home, he seemed to believe that I could her hurt. If she's a werewolf too then why would be worry about me hurting her?"

"I don't know, Scott," Stiles was sad rather than confused as Scott would have thought.

"Let's just worry about Derek," Scott said calmly. "And then we can worry about Emory after Derek doesn't die."

Stiles just nodded.

[ _present time: driving Derek home from the Animal Clinic_ ]

"So, Emory," started Stiles. "Your eyes."

"We already covered it," said Derek simply.

For the second time that day, Stiles abruptly stopped the car. Luckily no cars were behind him.

" _Everything_?" Stiles' jaw dropped.

"No," Emory looked at Derek. "He said I was a werewolf like him. I then looked in the mirror and saw my eyes were blue or rather were glowing blue. Then Derek fainted."

"You didn't do the whole 'it's a gift' thing with her?" whined Scott.

"I am not sure it was a gift." Derek kept his eyes on Emory as well. "There might be a reason neither one of us knew she was a werewolf before her eyes changed color. She also never changed completely so we don't even know that she is a werewolf."

"Wait!" If Stiles hadn't already stopped the car, he would have slammed on the breaks again. "There are more than just werewolves?"

"Yes, you idiot," hissed Derek.

"Are you saying I'm some kind of supernatural beast?" Emory asked a little to violently. Derek looked as if he'd been slapped in the face.

"Not necessarily a beast," Derek changed his direction to Stiles. "Do you mind dropping Emory and I off and my house?"

"I will not be dropping you and Emory off anywhere?" Stiles returned. "Like I would ever hand her over to you for you to bite, murder, or seduce."

"Seduce?" both Emory and Derek questioned.

"Whatever." Stiles shook his head as if trying to clear his head of a painful mental image. "Get the main idea: you and my dear cousin, Emory, are not going anywhere together alone. Ever.

"Stiles," said Scott calmly. "Let them go."

"I will be able to figure out what she is quicker if its just the two of us."

"That doesn't even make sense," said Stiles. "It's still a 'no.' I am not having my only cousin become…" Stiles kept his eyes on the road.

"Emory," Stiles turned around from the passenger seat. "What do you want to do?"

"I…" Emory looked at Stiles. His distraught terrified her. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt the only family she had left. But she also needed to find out who she was. What she was. For herself. "I need to do this."

Without saying anything. Stiles started the car and drove straight to Derek's abandoned home. He kept his eyes straight ahead when Derek got out of the car. Emory slowly got out of the car. She walked over to the driver's side. She knocked on the window. Stiles rolled down the window.

"Please, Stiles," Emory sighed. "Look at me."

When he didn't, Emory took his chin in her hand and turned his head to face hers. She saw the tears streaming down his face.

"Stiles." In one movement, he got out of the car and embraced Emory in a rib-fracturing hug. He tucked rested his chin on her shoulder and wept into her hair.

They stood there for a few more moments until Stiles' weeping calmed down.

"Just be back tomorrow," he sniffled.

"Of course," she took his head in her hands and kissed him on the forehead. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

After Scott and sappy Stiles left, Derek and Emory entered the drafty house. The lack of power was evident when Emory entered and she couldn't see anything.

Derek turned around, eyes glowing.

"Step one, make your eyes turn."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that. Up until an hour ago, I didn't know anyone's eyes could glow."

"Well, there you go. Just get really angry."

Emory lifted an eyebrow.

"Okay," Derek let out the closest thing to a laugh he could probably make. "Close your eyes."

"Close them?"

"Yes. Close them. Now imagine having control over them."

"Having control I don't have?"

"And," Derek ignored her comment. "Having the control over whether what color they can be."

Emory focused. Control. Control. _Control_.

"Now open them."

Emory did. And there was Derek right in front of her. She looked around. She could see how the house was once magnificent. She left Derek standing by the front door and went to explore the house. She entered a room which she would guess would have been the living room. Floor boards were missing and the only furniture was the structure of a couch. She went back into the atrium where the grand staircase was.

She went to climb it when Derek grabbed her wrist.

"What do you smell?" He asked her.

Emory took in a whiff.

"Nothing," she breathed. "Except for dust, rotting wood, blood…" She turned to look at Derek.

"How can you stay here?" Images flashed across Emory's mind. Images of death, struggle, arson. "After all that's happened?"

"How do you know what happened?" Derek asked roughly.

"I just got images. Scenes. Is that normal when you smell things?"

"What kind of images?"

"Images of suffering. They weren't clear. I couldn't see any faces."

"Interesting."

"You are going to have to give me more than that," Emory whined. "What am I?" she asked more forcefully.

"I don't know." Derek sighed. "You are different from a regular werewolf. That much prevented Scott and I from smelling you. However, the fact that your eyes turn blue tells me something."

"What does it tell you?"

"I'd rather have you tell me that."

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me about your parents."


	6. Chapter VI: The Parents

**Chapter VI: The Parents**

[ _June 30, 2011_

"Emory?" called Julia Stilinski from the front passenger seat back to her daughter. "Emory?" She called a little louder.

Her daughter had her headphones in listening to _Tomorrow Will Be Kinder_ by the Secret Sisters while staring out the window.

"Emory!" yelled the girls father from the driver's seat. Emory, startled, yanked the headphones from her ears.

"Sorry," the girl apologized. "What?"

Julia Stilinski sucked in a large breath and exhaled loudly.

"We asked if you were going to be around for dinner," her father said through gritted.

"Or if you were going out with your wrongly chosen friends," added her mother.

"I-"

"We told you you should have tried harder with the Drier's daughter. Did you hear she's already declared to Princeton?"

"She-"

"As a junior," Emory's father interrupted. "I always knew that girl would do well."

"Don't you think you should go for a run, instead?" Her mother suggested. "You haven't exercised yet today."

"And you're looking find of chubby," her father laughed.

There was a pause. Emory found her opening.

"I think I-" Emory raised her voice.

"Ah ah ah," her father frowned, shaking his finger above the steering wheel. "Don't raise you voice honey."

"I think I'll stay home."

"You think?" her father questioned. "Are you not sure? Have you made plans? Are you being reactive instead of proactive?"

"You need to stay home, tonight," said her mother as something rushed in front of the Stilinski's car.

Emory's mother yelped in surprise and shot a warning glance at her husband.

"Stay calm, honey."

Emory's father let out a growl.

The rest of the car ride back from the restaurant was silent.

Emory quickly got out of the car heading straight up to her room before changing into running gear.

"Going for a run," Emory said as she walked fast her mother and father sitting on the couch.

"Wait!" Her father shouted as she slammed the door. The put her headphones in and ignored the yell.

Emory's neighborhood was the epitome of suburban upstate New York with every house looking incredibly similar.

Emory headed towards the park near her house. The only place she completely herself. Her and Casper. Alone.

When she returned to her neighborhood, the sun had almost set. The sky cast an orange and pink glare on all the perfect houses lined evenly on either side of the neatly paved road.

Looking back, she should have noticed at that moment that something was wrong.

The road reeked of it. Of blood.

As she approached her front door, she observed the broken lock. She pushed open the door leading to the atrium.

The smell became too much.

She walked farther into the house and towards the living room. That's when she saw them.

She reached into her pocket and called the police. No point in calling for an ambulance.

[ _Present Day in Derek's' House_ ]

"What happened to them?" Derek asked.

"Their throats had been slashed." Emory looked down at her hands. "The doctor's told me they had over 30 stab wounds each. However, the doctors described that the dagger used was laced with poison. They said that the poison was ultimately the thing that killed them." Emory glanced at Derek's forearm. "That didn't really make any sense to me until now."

"They never revealed to you what they were?" Derek questioned. "What you were?"

"No," she sighed. "We all had that crushing fear of losing ourselves. My parents must of inserted that mentality in my head as a baby. We all shared it. The fear was the thing that kept me their daughter."

Derek did not say anything in return. His eyebrows deepened with thought.

"What are you thinking?" Emory asked him.

"I think your parents fear killed them. But I also think its what has kept your powers hidden until now. You never had a use for them. I think your brain convinced your body that you weren't a werewolf. Any heightened sense that came with being a werewolf was kept deep inside your brain."

"Is that possible?"

"I would have thought but you..." Derek shook his head. "There's no other reason"

"That still doesn't tell me what I am."

"I think that's all we are going to understand at the moment until I start to teach you how to use your powers. I need to remind your body what it is."

"And how are we going to do that?"

"You," Derek's claws shot out of tips of his fingers. "Are going to fight me."


	7. Chapter VII: The Elimination

Chapter VII: The Elimination

"How the hell am I supposed to fight you," Emory stuck out her hands. "Reminder: no claws."

"That's the part that we need your body to remember."

"I don't think it's a matter of remembering. If I never used them, there's nothing for my body to remember."

"What, you just want sit around and sing camp fires song about werewolves? You want to have a daily reminder saying 'wow, you look great today, Emory. But you know what would look better? Teeth and Claws.'

"That's not what I am suggesting."

"Trust me," Derek said forcefully. "I know what I am doing."

"Fine, but what am I doing?"

"You," Derek pointed to Emory. "Are going to punch me in the face?"

"Why would that make me turn?"

"Anger often causes werewolves inner wolf to show," Derek explained.

"But why do I have to punch you?"

"So I don't feel bad for hitting a girl," Derek smirked before it was whipped off by Emory slapping him across his face. "You feminists. Always getting angry at men for being gentlemen."

"Shut up," Emory easily countered.

"Pain also ignites a wolf," Derek explained further. "So when I punch you, hopefully your

wolf self will heal it."

"Hopefully?" Emory question.

"Yeah, unless I break your arm."

"If you break my arm, I'll snap your neck, chop you up into little pieces and feed you to

Casper."

"There we go," Derek celebrated. "Now turn those vicious words into action."

Emory paused, formed her hand into a fist and took a swing.

Derek closed his eyes, bracing himself for the punch."Emory stopped her fist half way before it reached Derek's cheek.

"I can't do this," Emory shook her head. "I can't hurt you."

"What if I started insulting you?"

"Derek," Emory rolled her eyes. "I have had 17 years of insults from my parents. I think I can take everything you throw at me."

"Well, there is another way."

"Another way that won't give me bruises? Or where I don't have to hurt other people?

Why didn't we start with that?"

"How determined are you on figuring this out tonight?" Derek cocked an eyebrow.

"I am not leaving until I do. Now, what is this way?"

"It's the way Scott triggered his inner wolf." Derek paused.

"Spit it out, Derek." Emory said. "What is it?"

"Sexual interaction."

Emory almost choked on the spit resting in her throat. "Like kissing?"

Derek nodded and got pale all the sudden."Wait, it wont be your first kiss will it."

Emory had to laugh at his reaction. "No," Emory laughed. "I know I may not seem like it now but I was a very different girl in New York. The naive girl I seem like I am now was not who I was a couple of months ago."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"If it truly will help me figure out what the hell is going on with me." Emory shrugged.

"And it is just a kiss,"

Derek raised his eyebrows.

"Well, are going to kiss me, Derek?" Emory laughed. "Or are you going to leave me h-"

Derek cut Emory off as he grabbed her waist, yanking her towards him.

He needed to make her feel some sort of sexual arousal. He held her in his arms before starting to kiss her slowly.

Emory broke away laughing.

"You are not really getting the point of this," Derek frowned.

"Sorry," Emory laughed. "I'll try not to laugh."

They met in the middle this time. Emory placed her hands on either side of his face as his hands rested on her hips.

The kissing deepened as the speed rapidly increased. Emory ran her fingers through his hair. He wrapped his hands up into the small of her back, pressing her closer to him.

She then reached down his back sliding her hand under his shirt.

The shirt still smelled of blood. But it also smelled of him and in that moment, he was

more powerful than anything else.

He lifted her up as she straddled her legs on either side of his hips. He carried her upstairs as they continued to kiss. He set her on the bed as he removed his shirt.

He slid over Emory's body pinning her to the surprisingly comfortable mattress beneath

her back. She was expecting a piece of wood.

"His hands glided under her shirt. She removed her hands fro his back to help him take it

off.

She returned her hands to the back of his neck pulling him closer.

Derek moved to her neck while she slid her hands through his hair again. His hands

started to grip the belt around her jeans.

She focused on the kissing as she moved her hands to his back.

Derek's head shot away from her neck. "Stop."

Emory brought her hands in front of her vision. She had claws.

"Let it take over." Derek said forcefully. "Lose control."

A million memories flashed through Emory's head. She needed to stay in control.

She involuntarily caused her head to regain control over her body. Just as her parents had

taught her.

"I can't," as Emory winced she let out a tear. She felt her body relax.

"Let it take over," Derek commanded. She felt her teeth shift slightly back into normal

position.

"I can't," Emory sobbed. She reached for Derek who held her in return.

"Don't be afraid." He let go after she had wiped her face.

"I can't not be afraid. It's fear," Emory sat crossed legged on the bed with her forehead

resting in her palms.

"Everyone experiences fear. Don't let yourself be overcome by it."

"Easier said then done," she looked up at Derek who was sitting across from her in the

same position staring at her with a solemn appearance.

"So is having control and you forcing yourself from not becoming a werewolf." Derek

laughed lightly. "Usually it's the opposite. You have too much control."

Derek meant it as a compliment, but from what Emory had learned in the past few hours

made it seem like criticism.

Emory had nothing to say. She had begun to think again. What was she? Why

was she what she is? How was she the way she is

"Do you know what the different colored eyes mean?" Derek said slowly after the pause.

"No," she said while looking deeper into Derek's blue eyes. "I figured all werewolves had

the same blue that we have."

"No actually." Derek sighed.

"Are you going to tell me?" Emory laughed after Derek just sat there staring at her.

"Do you know who killed your parents?"

"No," Emory huffed. "Although I wouldn't mind killing the person who did."

Derek flinched. "Blue eyes mean that a person has taken the life of an innocent," he said

after a pause, waiting for Emory to take in what he had just said.

"An innocent what?" Emory asked, her brow deepening. "An innocent person? Are you

calling me a murderer?" Emory's confusion grew. She wan't angry, just more confused than anything?"

"An innocent is usually not an enemy. You could have lost control and killed your parents."

Emory stood in front of Derek with her mouth slightly parted. "You know the story of how my parents died. I told you. I opened up to you. Do you know how many people I tell that story to? Nobody."

"Emory, you have to think of it as an option. It is a possibility."

"Fuck you." Emory turned against Derek and started for the door.

"Emory, wait!" called Derek reaching for her. Emory pulled her arm away and sprinted

out the front door.

"You better stand back, Derek," Emory slowly backed away from the house. "Because I'm a killer. And not because I killed my parents. Maybe I did kill my parents. But that wouldn't have made my eyes blue. Do you know why?"

Derek shook his head, pity in his eyes.

"My parents' weren't innocent." And with that, she turned around and ran into the forest. As she went deeper and deeper into the wood she felt tears falling down her face as ' _you're a killer_ ' replayed in her head over and over again.

"You forget." Derek whispered through the forest. "I'm one too."

After running for a while she became careless and tripped over the root of a large oak

tree. She stumbled across the forest floor. Instead of continuing, she did what any

confused and alone teenager does, cried.


	8. Chapter VIII: The Teamwork

**Chapter VIII: The Teamwork**

"Emory? Emory?" said Stiles quietly to his cousin. She was curled up, in her bed, and under the covers. However, it was 7:40 and homeroom started at 7:45.

"Emory," he stated a little louder.

Stiles had figured she would have stayed the night at Derek's. Stiles was insanely happy to see that she was indeed safe and unharmed. But still, slightly confused about here whereabouts because of how they ended it last night.

Stiles looked around the room before eyeing what he need.

 _BOOM_

Emory had completely awoke on account of her astronomy textbook being dropped on the hardwood floor next her bed.

Before she had processed what she was doing, however, she had her hands around Stiles throat and her eyes glowed blue.

She blinked and her eyes returned to normal as she released Stiles.

"Oh, my god." Emory covered her mouth with her hands.

"I see your powers are working just fine."

"I am so sorry, Stiles."  
"Derek must have knew what he was doing."

"No," Emory frowned as memories from last night flooded in. "He didn't."

Stiles looked at her, confused.

"Still no claws and teeth," she put up her hands.

"Well, no time to waste pondering. We are late for homeroom."

"You actually care about getting to school on time?" Emory questioned in disbelief.

Stiles seemed at a loss for words, while Emory lost all seriousness.

"Is this because a certain red head is on the morning announcements discussing Saturdays game?" Emory jokes light-heartedly.

"Oh, shut up." Stiles said quickly while shoving Emory out the door.

It was hard for Emory to think of geometry when she had just learned that she had the power to break her fellow classmates' bodies in half.

Especially when Scott and Stiles kept asking for specifics about last night.

"So are you going to Derek's after school to see if you can figure out the rest of your powers?" whispered Stiles from the desk behind me. Stiles earned a glare from the teacher.

"No, I do not think I will be seeing Derek any time soon," I whispered in return as the teacher turned her back towards the chalk board.

"That's my cousin," Stiles triumphed a little too loudly as the teacher turned back around. "I knew he wouldn't be any help," he whispered.

"What happened between you two?" Scott questioned during lunch.

"Me," Stiles ignored Scott's question with a mouthful of mac and cheese. "On the other hand would be a great teacher. I already have some ideas."

"Really?" confirmed Emory, completely aware that she was ignoring Scott's question.

"Meet me on the Lacrosse field during 8th." Both Scott and Emory nodded and both a weary of what Stiles had in mind.

"Okay," Stiles put both hands out. "Now, stand right there." Stiles talked as if he were training to puppies how to stay. "And stay." There is was.

"Stiles," both Emory and Scott started.

"I am going to throw these at you guys," he said ignoring the two werewolves by picking up a rubber ball with his lacrosse stick.

"Because that's gonna feel like a nice pillow to the stomach," Scott whimpered.

"Exactly," Stiles smiled.

"You guys do understand that we don't know if I can heal, right?" I raised my eyebrows at the pair.

Stiles just cradled the lacrosse ball.

"I guess this is better than Derek's way," Emory whispered under her breadth.

"What did he try?" Scott said. _Stupid super hearing._ Emory sighed.

"Nothing," Emory shook her head. "Just hit me already."

"That's what she said," Stiles smirked before chucking the lacrosse ball at Scott's stomach.

"Stay calm." Stiles raised his pointer finger at his friend as I would to Casper. "Your turn, Emory."

Emory linked her hands behind her back and attempted to let herself get hit with a lacrosse ball. The first ten tries wee fails as Emory had instinctually caught the lacrosse ball with her bare hands. Emory's eyes had only changed once and that had come from the pain and speed of catching the balls.

"How come we are forcing Emory into changing while I have to learn not to change?" Scott pouted. "It's unfair."

Stiles shook his head. "For now, we are going to focus on Scott because control is better than no control."

Emory huffed although she couldn't help but agree.

Emory ran home from school. Yes, it was a long way but she had finished her homework so she was able to leave her backpack in her locker.

She wore gym shorts and a t-shirt to school so she was already in work out clothes. The issue was her sandals. When she got about a mile from school and was surrounded by neighborhoods, she removed her sandals and started to run barefoot.

Emory loved the feeling of her bare feet slapping against the pavement. The pavement felt warm under her dry feet.

A car slowly drove past her. Stopped and then reversed. Emory stopped moving and waited for the car to stop next to her.

A man in his forties sat from inside the car. He had piercing blue eyes and grey hair.

"Do you need a ride?" He asked.

Emory practically smelled danger. Or literally.

"I think you go to school with my daughter," the man said when Emory did not reply. "Her name is Alison. She is new."

"I am new as well," Emory said simply. "From New York."

"Why the change in scenery?"

"My parent's death," she said darkly. No matter who this man was, Emory could sense she wanted him nowhere near him.

"I'm sorry," the man nodded.

"I don't know your daughter," Emory continued. "I might have heard of her, though."

"Are you sure you don't need a ride?"

Emory squinted at the man. "Yes, thank you," she said tightly.

The man nodded in goodbye and pulled further down into the neighborhood.

Emory quickened her pace the rest of the way back to her cousin's house.


End file.
